


How Cecil (Almost) Ruined Christmas

by letsownthisbadboy (somethingsalwayswrong)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Christmas, Gen, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, I hope you like this!, Rhyming, Welcome to Night Vale Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsalwayswrong/pseuds/letsownthisbadboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-telling of How The Grinch Stole Christmas, only more...Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Cecil (Almost) Ruined Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for aclusteroffandoms on tumblr for the Night Vale Secret Santa. They asked for " Family- maybe a big fluffy get together with Janice and Steve & Abby??" I know it's not _exactly_ what you asked for but every attempt at writing the get-together started morphing into this. So I ran with it. I hope you like it!

Everyone in Night Vale was liked by Cecil a lot...  
But Steve Carlsberg, who lived just north of Night Vale, Was NOT!  
Cecil hated Steve! Everything about the guy!  
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.  
It could be Steve's beliefs that time in Night Vale was fake.  
It could be, perhaps, all the scones that he baked.  
But I think the most likely reason of all,  
May have been that Cecil's heart was two sizes too small.  
Whatever the reason, this Christmas Eve,  
Cecil stood in the radio station, hating Steve.  
Staring at Steve's house with a sour frown,  
At the warm lighted windows out of place in their town.  
For he knew every Night Valian in the town around them,  
Was busy now, arranging their circles of bloodstone gems.  
“But Steve has no bloodstones!” he snarled with a sneer,  
“And tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!”  
Then he growled, with his fingers nervously drumming,  
“I must keep fix this Christmas, or City Council will be coming!”  
For Tomorrow, he knew, the City Council would appear,  
And they'd search every house for government-mandated levels of cheer!  
And then! Oh, the fear! Oh, the Fear!  
Fear! Fear Fear!  
That's one thing Cecil hated! The FEAR!  
Those who didn't obey would be led to the mines  
And the fines! And the fines! And the FINES!  
FINES FINES FINES!  
They'd fine for bloodstone counts, or having the wrong wines.  
Which, to Cecil, sounded like a terrible time.  
But Steve would do something he liked least of all!  
Every Carlsberg in Night Vale, the tall and the small,  
Would sit close together, with Christmas bells ringing.  
They'd sit close in hand. And the Carlsbergs would start singing!  
Not chanting or wailing, not a moan or a scream.  
They'd sing! And they'd sing! And they'd sing!  
SING! SING! SING!  
And the more Cecil thought of this false ChristmasSing,  
The more Cecil though, “I must stop this whole thing!”  
“Why, for nearly 6 years I've put up with it now!”  
“I must fix their Christmas, for Janice! But HOW?”  
Then he got an idea! And awful idea!  
Cecil Baldwin got a wonderful, awful idea!  
“I know just what to do!” Cecil laughed in his throat.  
And the made a Sheriff's Secret Police balaklava and coat.  
And he chuckled, and clucked, “What a neat little trick!”  
“With this coat and balaklava, I'll look pretty sick.”  
“All I need is an look-out...” he said and looked 'round.  
But since it was Christmas, there were none to be found.  
Did that stop our friend Cecil? No! Cecil simply said,  
“If I can't find an look-out, I”ll make one instead!”  
So he called Intern Consuela. Then he threw her a mask,  
And when she tried to question it, he said “Don't ask.”  
THEN he loaded some bloodstones and some pre-recorded screaming,  
In a ramshackle red wagon and began his scheming.  
Then Cecil said “Let's go!” and they both started down,  
Toward the street where Steve lived, at the edge of the town.  
Everyone was celebrating Christmas without a single care  
When he came to the last house on the square.  
“This is the place,” the radio host hissed,  
And he climbed through the yard, bloodstones in his fist.  
And he laid them out carefully, hard to do in the night  
But thankfully for him, Intern Consuela brought a light.  
He messed up only once, a stone misplaced or two.  
Then he re-arranged them until they glowed an unearthly hue.  
Inside the house, stockings hung in a row.  
“Those are not government-approved!” he muttered. “They have to go!”  
Then he slithered and slunk, without hesitation,  
Around the whole house, and he took every decoration!  
Ribbons! And glitter! Baubles! And tinsel!  
Then he replaced them with soft meat crowns, much more visceral.  
The whole house was shrouded in shades of black and red,  
With ancient runes painted above every bed.  
Then he turned toward the corner of the living room with glee.  
“And NOW!” grinned Cecil, “I will decorate the tree!”  
And the host grabbed his arcane artifacts, and just as he kneeled,  
He heard a small sound, like the rolling of wheels.  
He turned around fast, and his head he nearly smacked!  
It was his niece Janice, he was caught in the act!  
Cecil had been caught by this Carlsberg daughter,  
Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.  
She stared at her uncle, still balaklava-clad,  
And said, “Was our paperwork bad?”  
“We filled out the forms so we could keep the tree up.”  
“Was there something wrong with them? Did we mess something up?”  
But, you know, that Cecil was so smart and so slick,  
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!  
“Why, my sweet little kid,” the fake policeman lied,  
“We changed up the laws, only just last night.”  
“So for this year, you'll have to conform to our ways.”  
“Maybe next year, the Council will allow the change.”  
And his fib fooled the girl, who hung her head low.  
It broke his heart, but it was for her own good, you know.  
And when Janice went back to bed for the night,  
Cecil bolted out the door and took flight!  
The last thing he changed was the wreath on the door  
He replaced it with an offering to the goddess of war.  
Intern Consuela was waiting outside,  
Sitting on the wagon and texting for a ride.  
It was a quarter past dawn...All of Night Vale, still a-bed,  
All of Night Vale, still asnooze When he packed up his sled,  
Packed it up with the presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!  
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!  
To the other side of town! Up the stairs to his flat,  
Which he shared with his boyfriend Carlos and their cat.  
He wheeled his wagon to the roof to dump it!  
“Take that, Steve!” he muttered while the air smelled of copper,  
“This year your Christmas will be approved and proper!”  
“Your gaudy decorations and your tacky CDs”  
“Will be sent into the desert on a cool winter breeze.”  
“Steve will throw a fit!” he said in a way quite unendearing.  
“That's something,” grinned Cecil, “that I wouldn't mind hearing.”  
So he pulled out his cell and gave Steve a call,  
And he heard something he hadn't expected at all.  
“Merry Christmas!” beamed Steve from the other end of the line.  
He didn't sound upset at all! In fact, he sounded fine!  
In the background his sister and niece, without a bell ringing,  
Weren't just happy, they were singing!  
Not wailing or shrieking, not a cry or a moan,  
They sang all the same in their small desert home.  
They were happy! Without their illegal decorations!  
They were happy, he thought! Even with the regulations!  
He hadn't done anything to fix their Christmas traditions  
He hadn't stopped anything! He'd failed in his mission!  
Forty minutes he puzzled, till his puzzler was sore.  
Then Cecil thought of something he hadn't before!  
“Janice mentioned paperwork! They went through legal means!”  
“The Council didn't care about their reds and their greens!”  
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “isn't about the old ways.”  
“Maybe Christmas...perhaps...is more about spending the day”  
“With those that you love, doing things that make you happy.”  
And it brought a tear to his eye (Cecil could get a bit sappy).  
And what happened then? Well...in Night Vale they say,  
That Cecil's heart grew room for Steve that day!  
And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight,  
He whizzed with his wagon and Carlos to make thing right!  
They joined the celebration and sang lovely tones,  
And Cecil, CECIL HIMSELF! Helped Steve make the scones!  
After a full day of celebrating, he and Carlos would leave.  
He'd leave loving Christmas (but still hating Steve.)

And to you, if you're reading, take care and sleep tight.  
Merry Christmas, dear readers, Merry Christmas and goodnight.


End file.
